October 4, 2026
Comfort Island
Dear Brody,
Yesterday we had two parties: a neighborhood gathering downriver and a reception for two filmmakers debuting their short films upriver.
Carl Lueck and his wife Tammy hosted their annual “Chili Cook-Off” for the down river crowd, among them the Johnstons from Stony Crest and the Amsterdams from Cherry Island. Cathy and Craig Garlock were there as well. Carl is 83 and rows his skiff on the St. Lawrence almost every morning.
Stud.
The conversations centered on life on the River and when people were closing up and leaving for the winter. Almost everyone will be gone by the end of the month.
Ryan Johnston and I talked about how to get folks to slow down when passing our islands. The wakes from the big boats plowing through can wreak havoc on our floating docks and boats. Apparently, people are responsible for damage caused by their wake. Good to know. I’ll be that grumpy old guy chasing down boats next year, shaking my fist and shouting.
Or I could just shake my head and head out in my skiff like Carl.
Along with the old guard of the downriver group, Conor met Clarissa, who recently moved here from Sidney, New York. Somehow our conversation veered into a fanboy—and fangirl—rant about Heated Rivalry. I remain amazed at how many women love that show.
And finally, I met Curt Gardali from Dingman Point near Alexandria Bay.
The chilis were delicious and the conversations warm and thoughtful. But sitting there, I was reminded of one of the peculiarities of life on the River.
The Johnstons and I are the new guys.
These people have known one another for decades. Some of their families have been here for generations.
That’s the thing about the River. There are all sorts of distinctions here that probably aren’t apparent to someone just passing through. Upriver and downriver. Summer people and year-round residents. Old families and newcomers. There are differences in money, class and politics, too—and assumptions people make about one another because of all three.
But the real currency is time.
How long have you been here? How long was your family here before you?
Even though I’m third generation on the River, I’m still the new guy at Comfort because I bought it only 13 years ago. Even today, people still refer to it as the “Clark Cottage.”
It chafes a bit.
We drove BUZZ over because it was one of those perfect afternoons that happen in October. BUZZ is the 1910 boat that belonged to the family at Comfort. She’s narrow, very tippy and ridiculously long, which makes her difficult to maneuver. The engine is modern, but that’s about it.
But she’s stunning.
Maybe the new guy gets a few extra points for bringing the old boat.
We left the Luecks around six and continued upriver, past Clayton, to Chris and Jason’s.
The Bishop and Tom from Round Island were there, as was our friend Will. Kieran and Campbell and the Lucases from Bluff Island joined us, along with a number of others. There was plenty of food and wine and hot cider spiked with bourbon, suddenly necessary as the temperature quickly fell.
The event was held in their barn, set up as a mini screening room. David and Austin, two filmmakers from Ithaca, screened shorts—some they had made and some they simply loved.
Luckily, I had brought two blankets and shared them with Matt Leffingwell. Before the screening, we talked politics, the election and our mutual friend S.E. Cupp. It's difficult to live in America at the moment and not eventually find yourself talking politics. The River doesn't prevent that. If anything, it puts people who see the world quite differently beside one another at the same table.
And perhaps that's another peculiar thing about this place. We have our tribes here, certainly. But eventually somebody pours another glass of wine, puts another log on the fire, or asks if you'd like some chili.
Finally, we left.
It was 42 degrees.
Back at Keewaydin, we climbed into dew covered BUZZ and started across the river toward Comfort. By then it was completely dark and the sky was pocked with stars.
A 116-year-old boat. A cold October night. Conor beside me. Comfort lit up across the water.
New guy or not, it was good to be home.
I miss you Bro. Can't wait to see you in two weeks.
Dad